fact or fiction
Is it a fact or is it merely fiction? Fact or Fiction explores the lesser known truths in the corporate culture of Journal.
New Beginnings
Morning sunlight reaches through sheer white curtains. A soft, sleepy groan comes from the pile of pillows and blankets on the bed by the window. With a dramatic heave, Renée pulls herself out of the depth of her dreams. She stumbles half asleep into the bathroom and into the shower. Her daughter, Zoey, sleeps sweetly, nestled in the innocence that only surrounds toddlers.
By Rain Kendall5 years ago in Journal
An Author's Legacy
Marcie pulled into the long-paved driveway of 1832 Westcastle Court and forced her Volkswagen into Park with a clunk. As she kicked the driver's door open with her foot, she dragged a loaded cardboard box across the center console and wrestled it out of the car with her. Blowing the black hairs out of her eyes, she set the box to rest on the hood of the car and began fishing through its contents.
By Michelle Pattison5 years ago in Journal
Everything Was About to Change
She barely caught the train. Not that another train wouldn’t be coming by in fifteen minutes, but the 1 train ran local and it was already going to be another forty-five minutes before the train got to her stop at 231st Street, the second to last stop on the 1 line. She was out of breath but she made it. Whew!
By Lisa R Barry5 years ago in Journal
When you least expect it
Chapter 1 Today, lunch with David was unsettling to say the least. We have been meeting for lunch regularly for as far back as I can remember - well, at least since the publication of 'The Forgotten Children' in 2008 anyway. He said, “Aldrich, I dreamt of Fairbridge Farm last night .. again. Something you said that didn’t make sense. And I can’t quite put my finger on it.” The statement was followed by a good minute of silence. It felt like Remembrance Day and the lumps that popped up in the throat were visceral.
By Eddy Furlong 5 years ago in Journal
The Last Bookstore
Celeste knew that bookstores were dying. The world was online, and the bookstore was a leftover, like week-old turkey. Celeste liked that no one came into the bookstore. She liked that there was a job that involved sitting around reading all day. It was a pretty good gig for someone who had barely graduated high school last year. Celeste once looked into being a librarian, but it involved a lot of student loan debt. Better to work for this little shop, for as long as it lasted.
By Laura Todd5 years ago in Journal
Ultimate Gift
Leaving the office building, the girl took a long look back at it, and her dream, which seemed to be getting farther and farther. Another refusal. Another NO. It was the fifth time this month already, that her potential investors refused to fund her project. Emma could not understand why. How could they be so oblivious and not see all the possibilities, that come with her idea? And she didn’t ask for that much, to be honest, only 20 grand. No job, no money, but full of ambition. Just like her dad. Speak of the devil. The phone rang.
By Teresa Ulianytska5 years ago in Journal
Little Black Book
Keep writing. Those two words bounced around in my head all day. Today was my last day at a job I absolutely hated. I endured five long years at a company that had passed over me twice for a promotion I clearly deserved. I was the last female left in my department and the lack of estrogen at work at taken its toll on me. As an adult, there are these irritating things called bills that you have to pay to provide shelter and warmth for yourself. You also have to eat…to stay alive. So, I as much as hated the grueling weeks at Growth Interface Designs (GID), I enjoyed eating and staying alive much more. Plus, I had written a few short stories that I felt had real potential to be published as books. I was tired of not fulfilling my creative desires and not chasing my true passion as a writer.
By Allanah Dobson5 years ago in Journal
